Damn You, Miss Swan
by Scribes and Scrolls
Summary: Emma visits the mayor one night with a bottle of wine to cheer her up. Anger issues and smeared lippy ensues. WARNING: Includes a non-explicit passing reference to rape. This is my first story. A/N Jan 2015: Way back when I wrote this, no one knew anyone's back stories, so I just made up stuff. Don't be upset for canon divergence if you read it now. It wasn't canon then.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: **In this version of the Once universe Regina doesn't know Emma found out about her hooking up with Sheriff Graham. **With grateful thanks to my beloved beta reader indiana. This is my first fanfic. All feedback greatly appreciated.**

**DAMN YOU, MISS SWAN**

By Scribes and Scrolls

PART ONE – CAPRICIOUS RED

"So do you think you'll be OK on your own for a few days?" Mary Margaret asked the woman in a white tanktop rummaging through her fridge. The rummaging noises stopped abruptly and a blonde head appeared above the door.

"Huh? Where are you going to be?"

"I didn't think you were listening," the teacher replied with a grin. "School camp. Henry's class is going away for five days, a bit of fun, survival lessons, ghost stories, bonfires, the whole bit."

"Henry's going away for _five days_? And the mayor agreed to him going?"

"It is only school camp, Emma. And he will be chaperoned." Mary Margaret stopped. "Although you are right about the mayor," she frowned, trailing off. "She usually doesn't let him out of her sight. He's never been on school camp before."

"It's pretty obvious why that is," the sheriff snorted, her head disappearing back into the fridge. Rummaging noises resumed. "She's a full-on, type-A, control freak. Wouldn't surprise me if she's never let the kid out of her sight. Well I mean before he hopped a bus to find me."

She stood and closed the door, stopping when she saw the look on Mary Margaret's face.

"What?" she asked.

"You know ..." the dark haired woman began, "you're right. I wonder what's changed now?"

The pair stared at each other, thinking. Emma finally shrugged and dropped into a chair in the lounge, cradling a tub of yogurt in one hand, peeling off its foil lid swiftly with the other. "Dunno. What did she say when she handed in the permission form?"

"Not much. Just tapped it, said 'Look after my son', then gave me that look."

"What look?"

"Oh you know the one - 'Hurt my boy and I'll hunt you down and skin you alive and rip out your still-beating heart, not necessarily in that order'."

"Oh. Yeah, that one. Seen that a few times already." Emma smirked.

Mary Margaret laughed. "I'll just bet you have."

A silence fell. Finally the blonde spoke. "It'll probably be hard for her."

"Hmm?"

"The mayor. Letting Henry go. She'll probably over-compensate by being a bitch on wheels or something." Emma's mouth quirked. "Okay, MORE of a bitch on wheels."

"Probably," Mary Margaret agreed with a laugh. "But fortunately I won't be here to see it. You can tell me all about it when I get back."

Emma scowled. "Coward," she declared with a final grin before digging viciously into her yogurt.

"Uh huh. Just don't bust up any more of my appliances in fits of aggravation like last time. I am still finding pieces of toaster in the damndest of places."

"Scout's honour."

"_You_ were a Girl Scout?" the teacher's eyebrows nearly shot off her head.

Emma pulled a face. "Hardly." She paused. "You know this camp could do the kid the world of good. Seems like he's spending far too much time hanging around us. Where are the friends his own age?"

Mary Margaret nodded. "The mayor was always careful about vetting his friends. They had to be a particular _type_. After a while he simply gave up bothering to find his own. And the ones she found for him had no interest in being ordered to befriend him. So he's been pretty lonely for quite a few years. That's why I gave him the book in the end. If he couldn't have his own friends at least he'd have his imagination."

Emma nodded. Mary Margaret looked down and hesitated. "Although there are times I really wonder if I made a bad situation worse."

"Hey, you meant well. Anyway, who knows what a week away from the mayor will do for him. He could have a fantastic time."

"I hope so," the teacher smiled. "I'll let you know."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"And when you've done processing these monthly crime statistics, you will refile the break and enter folder. It was incompetently filed under B not P for Property Damage. When I asked to see it last week, it took Nancy half an hour to find it."

The mayor's clipped tones and flashing eyes finally paused their accusing demeanor. The "as any idiot should know" was left hanging wordlessly in the air, the sheriff noted in bemusement.

The other woman's hands were on her hips and her fingers were drumming ferociously. Emma wondered if the mayor would discover bruises there later. The thought of the mayor's bare skin, bruised or otherwise, momentarily derailed her thought processes and with a concerted effort she dragged her attention back to the woman at full parade-ground attention in front of her.

"Am I boring you Miss Swan?"

How to answer that? Infuriating, certainly, Emma mused. Frustrating? Hell yes. But boring? Never. She tilted her head thoughtfully as if weighing the answer less likely to be met with a burst of verbal napalm.

The mayor, enduring the drawn-out silence with increasing irritation, narrowed her eyes. "Careful, dear, you might sprain something."

It had been six hours since Henry, Mary Margaret and the rest of his year group had disappeared, and for once Emma wished she had been dead wrong about her instincts. But there was no missing the fact that Mayor Regina Mills had been control-freaking out on everyone, visiting her twice at the sheriff's office already to micromanage absolute nonsense that had absolutely nothing to do with mayoral business.

Emma finally shrugged. "I thought it was a rhetorical question."

"I do not pay you to think," the brunette snapped and, at Emma's raised eyebrows, suddenly looked away. For a brief instant, the threat she might even apologise for such a blatant lie hung in the air. But it was soon gone and Storybrooke's most highly-strung resident turned on her screw-you navy heels and swung out of the office.

Emma slumped back into her chair. She had tried to be understanding but the woman would test the patience of the Dalai Lama. It occurred to her to wonder who Regina Mills had to confide in about her ... issues. Was she, like Henry, alone?

. . . . . . . . . . . .

So it was that at 9 o'clock that night Sheriff Emma Swan stood nervously on the doorstep of the mayor's mansion. She had decided to be the mature grown-up and do something decent for once. She was trying to pluck up the nerve to ring the bell. Before she could, the light came on and the door flung open.

"Miss Swan," that rich, sardonic, faintly sneering voice announced. The woman paused as if enjoying deciding which choice insult to start off with when suddenly a look of fear gripped her.

The mayor barked: "Is everything all right? Did something happen to Henry? What is it?" She took a quick step inside Emma's personal space as if getting closer to the sheriff would deliver bad news faster. "Tell me!"

Emma made a conscious effort not to flinch. "He's fine, everything's fine," she soothed. She held up the bottle of red she'd been clutching. "Just thought maybe you'd like some company tonight. Can't be easy..." She trailed off uncertainly.

Myriad emotions flashed across the mayor's brown eyes. Relief, concern, anger, distrust. And something else.

Now those eyes swung to look at the bottle with a look of astonishment as if Emma had been offering her a rabies-ridden chihuahua carcass. She sputtered: "I am not some pathetic pity case who needs hand-holding just because her son is off singing Kumbaya for another 84 hours."

"84 hours?"

"Well that's how long he'll ... " She faded out.

Neither of them chose to comment on Mayor Mills's remarkable specifics when it came to Henry's absence.

Emma looked at her boots. "Well if you don't need the company, I sort of do. I really miss the kid, and he's only been in my life for a fraction of how long he's been in yours so I can only imagine how you're feeling."

She slid her eyes up to Regina's face, watching for a reaction under her lashes. Nothing. Ah. Right. "Well I'll just take it home and drink it myself."

She turned to go, pulling her red leather jacket closer to her body as if bracing against the mayor's Arctic coldness.

"Wait."

Emma paused and glanced up, surprised. The hooded expression in those brown eyes was still unreadable.

"Miss Swan, would you care to come in? I'd hate to contribute further to your delinquency by turning you into a sad alcoholic."

"No, we can't have that." Emma caught a bemused sparkle in Regina's eye.

The lounge was impersonal, modern, cold and would be a nightmare to keep clean. Assuming you could even find the dirt. Everything was black, white, angled. Emma's eyes moved from dry expensive art and sculptures to a monochrome rug probably worth more than her annual wage. She shivered.

She slid her eyes over to the mayor, noting for the first time the sleeveless dark tanktop and black tailored pants. Even at the end of a long day and missing her son, the woman looked completely poised. Not a hair was out of place. Apart from a slight tightness around her eyes she looked every inch an austere, cool beauty.

"Do you like what you see?" The mayor asked dryly, reaching for wine glasses and a cork screw, without looking up.

Emma froze and her eyes flew to the mayor's face. But Regina's expression was neutral and Emma relaxed, taking the question at face value.

"I know nothing about art," she admitted, feeling more gauche by the minute. She shrugged self-consciously. "It all looks ... um ... beautiful."

She held the mayor's gaze on the last word a little longer than she intended and realised how that must have sounded. She quickly looked away, a flush rising.

"Sit." the mayor said, pursing her lips.

Emma paused, uncertain where she should sit. She somehow felt outclassed by the mayor's fine furniture.

"I won't bite," the mayor teased, with a hint of annoyance edging her tone at the other woman's hesitation. "Much," she added with a curl of her lip.

God, that voice. Emma laughed out loud and reached for the glass the other woman was holding out.

"Not what I hear, Madame Mayor," she offered. Their fingers brushed as she took the glass and she felt a tiny shiver slide up her arm. She knew that feeling. She noted the mayor had swiftly extricated her own fingers.

Well that was awkward. Quickly she threw back a mouthful of wine to take her mind off what was turning into a ridiculously uncomfortable evening. She winced in horror as the trail of liquid scorched down her throat. Uggh. The _wine_. It tasted like battery acid.

Her eyes shot up to the mayor's face which presently mirrored her own. Oh crap.

"Did you acquire this bottle from a mechanic's still?" the mayor asked tartly, with a pained expression.

"It certainly tastes that way," Emma frowned, a blush spreading anew across her cheeks.

Regina's eyebrows rose at the sight, but she said nothing, elegantly rising and walking to a nearby cupboard. She bent to look through the contents and Emma found herself admiring a most perfectly rounded rear. She swallowed nervously.

The mayor rose holding triumphantly a wine with a vintage Emma could make out was far older than she was.

"Ah we don't have to crack that - you should save it for a special occasion," she stammered, appalled it would be wasted on her, as Regina reached for the corkscrew.

"But this _is_ a special occasion. It is rescuing my taste buds from tasting 'car'," the mayor said and turned to look at her fully. Then she smiled. It was a full-toothed, perfect smile, the sort to make toothpaste ad stars shrink back at their own imperfections. It was, quite simply, a dazzling 1000-watt sensation.

Emma looked at her in amazement. Regina Mills was completely transformed.

How, she suddenly wondered, had she missed what an absolutely gorgeous woman the mayor was? She had noted before that she had a certain … presence … which at times made her think inappropriate thoughts, and wonder what she looked like, her head tossed back crying out in passion. But this was more than that. Regina was stunning.

Emma groaned inwardly. Oh god. She could _not_ be falling for this woman. Could. Not. Happen.

Regina passed her a new glass and Emma swallowed a mouthful gratefully, relieved to be able to take her eyes off the other woman.

The mayor settled into a seat on the couch. Not opposite Emma, as she had anticipated, or a seat away. But beside her.

Still, she mused, the mayor had never been one to observe anyone's personal space.

"So," Regina purred, "What shall we talk about? The latest looks on the runways of gay Paris? Beauty secrets of famous stars? Which girly haircut you should get next?" She clapped her hands in a giddy, cruel parody, as her eyes glinted dangerously.

"What?" Emma blurted.

"Oh?" the mayor affected a crestfallen expression. "Aren't we friends now? Bosom buddies? BFFs?"

Emma looked at her in utter bafflement.

"Why else would you have inveigled your way into my home tonight? Either you pity me, and want to inflict some girly bonding ordeal on me ... which, frankly astonishes me because, really Miss Swan, you do not seem the type, and I know for a fact that I'm not."

Emma openly gaped.

Regina smiled again. This time there was no sweetness in the display and Emma felt a coldness close over the room.

"Or," Regina said with a predatory tone, "perhaps you wish to take advantage of me?"

Emma froze and almost choked on the fine wine which suddenly tasted like ash. Panic rose up in her before she heard the rest of Regina's sentence. Now the mayor's voice dropped an octave and the sheriff felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

"Because if you are playing me, to manoeuvre me to get Henry, you will be sorely disappointed."

The certainty and dread with which she said it almost made Emma laugh in her face. Instead she bit back her first response, and carefully put down her glass and stood.

Confusion flickered fleetingly across the mayor's face. It was briefly pleasant to see anything shatter that perfect composure.

"God you are so full of it," Emma said in a low tone. She frowned. "Actually if I didn't before, I do pity you now. That you can take an offer of friendship and twist it into something nasty - that's sad. Do you actually even have any real friends? Because anyone would realise how alone you were feeling tonight, but where are they? And when I make the effort to see that you're OK, _this_ is how you respond."

Regina was on her feet in a flash and nose to nose with the blonde. In any other circumstance Emma would have been convinced she was about to be kissed. But the mayor's eyes were dark chips of contempt.

"How dare you," she snarled. "Of course I suspect your motives. You are my son's birth mother. You've known him for five minutes and he declares to me every chance he gets that he loves you! Do you have ANY idea how that feels?

"And you haven't left as you said you would. Of course I have concerns as to your intentions. And I see I was right. Because now, at what you perceive to be my most _vulnerable _moment," she hissed, "you turn up to ... what?... get me drunk? Get my guard down? Get some dirt on me that you can use against me in court when you fight to take Henry off me?"

Her eyes were flashing now and Emma could plainly see fear warring with anger. In a brief moment of insight she realised Regina completely believed what she was saying. Emma felt overwhelmed with sympathy.

In many respects everything she'd said was true. Emma _had_ promised to leave. She had turned up with wine and had hoped to use that to get the mayor's guard down. But not for any of the reasons the woman thought. She did feel bad for her being alone tonight. And it was time they stopped banging heads. It was getting absurd - and it couldn't be helping Henry.

Fired up, fighting for her son, up in her face, she really was beautiful. And without thinking Emma did something she couldn't explain to herself and which neither of them expected. She leaned forward the short distance, captured the mayor's face swiftly in both hands and kissed her.

At first it was just a tentative kiss and then as she felt the surprise and capitulation of the other woman, she began to nibble those soft red lips, tasting expensive vintage. Leaning in more, Emma wrapped her arms around her neck, savouring her warmth and curves. Regina's breasts felt so soft against hers. Her body so right. She dropped down to nuzzle that perfect neck which had been driving her crazy all night.

And Regina responded. The tiniest of gasps escaped, a small wisp of air, then a more tortured moan, as if she was fighting a Herculean battle to contain it. Then her mouth sought out Emma's and their tongues tasted and duelled, their lips sliding together. Emma felt the mayor's hands shift to her hips, pulling her jean-clad hips tightly towards hers. It was a primal demand for fealty. Emma allowed it. She ran her hands down the mayor's back, savouring the feel of that taut, perfect body, rubbing provocatively against her.

And then Regina stopped. The hands at her hips pushed her sharply away.

They both blinked at each other and Emma knew she would never see Regina Mills looking quite so undone ever again.

"I'm not ..." a ragged voice spat out, quite unlike the mayor's usual controlled tones.

"Maybe not, but your lips think otherwise," Emma wanly joked, even as her heart began to sink.

Anger flashed in the mayor's eyes. And it was definitely the mayor who was back in charge, despite the undignified sight of MAC Capricious red lipstick smeared down her swollen lower lip.

"So that's it," she fumed, as though unearthing a carefully hidden secret. "You're going to try and entrap me, spread the rumour I'm some … some _predatory_ Sapphic seductress and get Henry that way?"

Emma's lips pressed together in a thin line. She thrust her hands in her pocket and stalked towards the door. She was shaking uncontrollably but did her best to hide it. She sensed the mayor following her.

The sheriff turned back angrily. "I don't know what 1950s drama you're living in but no one cares about what a pair of unattached women do behind closed doors. And by the way if I implicated you in anything you suggest, I'd be implicating me, too. Not everything is about your rights to Henry.

"So," she added, gathering up her anger in a tight ball, "Take your self-centred, self-righteous, bullshit conspiracy theories and shove them." Then she smiled. It was about as friendly as Regina's thunderous look.

She opened the door and paused on the threshold. "But you're right, I did have an ulterior motive tonight. I wanted to give comfort to someone I thought could use it. For your sake and mine and maybe even our son's. And you have just spat on it. Good night, Madame Mayor."

And with that she stepped out into the night gaining enormous satisfaction by slamming the door. She was halfway down the drive when she heard a furious curse and the violent smashing of what sounded like a wine bottle. Pity. It was a stunning vintage.


	2. Chapter 2

PART TWO – ANGER

Emma stood on the curb outside the mayor's house and looked at her watch. Had that tumult really taken place in half an hour? She could feel her heart pounding from adrenaline and couldn't face the thought of going home yet. She had walked here so she may as well take a scenic stroll the long way home.

The gravel crunched under her feet in a hypnotic staccato but try as she might Emma couldn't keep the memories from flooding back. Her pushing herself onto Regina's red, red lips. Tasting, exploring. The mayor's quivering moans, her tongue. The arousal washed over her body and Emma had to force the thoughts from her mind lest she walk into a street sign.

There was no doubting Mayor Mills had allowed, even welcomed her touch. But responding to someone on a primal level, with your skin on fire, is very different from wanting them in your life as a lover, and an equal. Mayor Mills allowed no one in her life that way. Not even her ex-lover. The previous sheriff had been her walking sex toy. Emma did not want to assume _all_ his duties. She did have some pride.

She doubted the mayor would ever have allowed it anyway, so shocked was the mayor's response to her body's innate reactions to a woman she believed – believes, Emma corrected – she loathes with a passion.

Passion. Now there was a word. Emma had a flash of burning brown eyes looking at her hungrily, and the memory of her elegant fingers clenching on to her backside yanking her closer to her curves, pushing her into her centre.

There was no doubt about one thing, Emma mused, Mayor Regina Mills had plenty of passion. Her body still tingled in agreement. It was probably for the best that they had severed their unspoken truce. She doubted her inflamed body could handle Mayor Mills getting under her skin much more. Let alone on top of it.

Her aimless walking had found her at Granny's, which by day was the town's café, and by night its main bar. How any planning ordinance in the land had agreed to this was a mystery to Emma, but she had come to expect eccentric from a town living under an unofficial monarchy.

Still not tired, and now it was well past ten, Emma slid onto a stool at the bar, two up from the town's newspaper man and across from Ruby, the bartender.

"What'll it be?" Ruby asked, her curious eyes running over her body. The woman did that with everyone so Emma ignored it. "Beer," she muttered and reached for her wallet. Oh crap. She'd left it at home.

Sidney, who had been watching her from the corner of his eye, gave a small smile. "Let me," he said and slid a note across the bar. Ruby shrugged and took the money before Emma could object.

"You didn't have to do that," she said, before realising she sounded ungrateful. "But thanks."

"Consider it a small apology. Very small."

The image of the man's condemning front page headline flashed in front of her eyes and she realised he probably owed her and his conscience considerably more than one beer.

"What did Regina threaten you with if you didn't out me in print as a jailbird?" she asked him conversationally.

"Nothing. I..." Sidney paused and looked shamefacedly at his own drink. He rattled some ice in his glass of spirits. "I thought I was using my initiative…"

Emma pulled a face. "She wasn't grateful?" she asked curiously.

"Oddly, no."

"That is surprising, given how much she hates my guts."

Sidney laughed. "My dear she doesn't hate you at all. She just thinks she does."

"Because of Henry." Emma supplied not bothering to make it a question.

"Because of Henry. I suspect in other circumstances she might quite admire you. Your independence. Your toughness. Not …" he paused, as if seeking a delicate way to put it, "ever needing a man."

Emma fiddled with her glass thoughtfully. For some reason it didn't surprise her that this unusual little man in the mayor's back pocket had figured her out. And, she noted, he could have easily put _that_ in the paper, too, but chose not to. And based on the mayor's shocked response tonight, he hadn't shared his conclusions with his demanding employer, either. It was interesting. She found herself leaning towards him in spite of herself.

"She is many of those things herself," the sheriff conceded. "But even she appears to think she needs a man."

"What do you mean?" Sidney asked in surprise. "The mayor is dating no one."

"Not now …"

"Not ever," he said, with a trace of bitterness Emma immediately recognised. You play private eye long enough you can always spot someone who thinks they have - or had - skin in the game.

"Long time to be celibate," she mused neutrally.

"Yes." He said shortly as if he had tasted something decidedly unpleasant. He stood. "I must go – have to feed my cats, plan this week's issue."

"Thanks for the beer, Sidney. And for you know..." she left it hanging out there. If he was as shrewd as she suspected, he'd know what she meant.

He put a tweed hat on his head, tilted it knowingly as he caught her eye, and then left. Emma drained her beer. No good ordering another without any green.

Ruby picked up the empty glass and eyed her. "He's not quite right you know."

"What do you mean?"

"The mayor's celibacy. There are rumours she was seeing someone but no one could work out who."

"Let me guess – the rumours stopped recently?" Emma asked, wondering how the entire town could be dense about who had been slipping through the mayor's window every other night.

"As a matter of fact they did." Ruby looked intrigued. "You _know_ something," she guessed. "Tell me who it was?" she whispered conspiratorially.

"No," Emma said. She stood, smiled and added firmly, "It's the mayor's business."

Ruby nodded, her disappointment evident.

Emma's polite smile dropped the moment her back was turned. Not that much loyalty had ever been afforded to her own private life, but she did actually have standards. Besides the man was dead, and he hadn't been too proud of his nocturnal deeds, so Emma would respect the sheriff's right to privacy, too.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

The time on the clock radio, when Emma finally cracked the front door, said 11.45pm. How on earth she had spent that much time wandering around was beyond her. She sighed and kicked off her boots, her eye falling to the phone's answering machine. Four messages? What the hell?

She hit play and dropped to a chair, wrestling her socks off as she listened to the message playback.

"Message received 9.05pm: Hi Emma, it's me. Just letting you know we've all settled in at camp and Henry is doing fine. Actually better than fine. He caught a fish today! The only one in his class to do so – they were all pretty impressed. It was small but the smile on his face – oh Emma, I wish you'd been here. Anyway, stay safe, stay out of Regina's way and I'll talk to you later."

Emma beamed. Good on the kid. Thanks for the update, she mused.

"Message received 9.25pm: Hello Mary Margaret, it's uh, Doctor Whale. Just you know following through on our conversation, uh, about, you know, ah … seeing if you are firm about not wanting to you know see me, ah, again. I would like to continue our, erm, ah, you know. Call me."

Geez – what a winner, Emma scowled. How could Mary Margaret even have touched the creep in the first place? And what lover calls himself DOCTOR on a message? What a douche.

"Message received 9.45pm: Damn you, Miss Swan! It's a good thing for your sake that you are the sheriff or I'd have you thrown into jail for tonight's little antics. I don't know where you get off assaulting innocent people like that…." Emma snorted. Hardly innocent. She began unbuttoning her shirt. "Why it was … completely uncalled for and … unprofessional!"

The line clunked dead and Emma frowned. Regina sounded beyond angry. She took off her shirt and stood to go to the shower when the answering machine kicked in again.

"Message received 11.40pm: Where the hell ARE you anyway?" Emma froze. So Regina had moved from angry to borderline hammered. The subtle slurring was not lost on the sheriff and she had received plenty of drunk-dial offers over the years to recognize the mayor's state of mind. Funny. She'd never have picked Regina Mills as one to do anything to the point where she was no longer in control.

"Are you out cavorting at the bar? With Ruby perhaps? Because I hear she isn't too FUSSY and you're just her type." Emma blinked. I'm what?

"You know I used to almost respect you. But you are s-sad Miss Swan. Sad, and pathetic and to THINK you actually thought you had a chance with me. Which you do not, I will say. You might have thought I was easy pickings tonight but one thing you should know about me – I am NEVER easy. And I …"

The machine clunked off. "Message exceeds allocated space."

Emma laughed at that. Bet Regina just loved being told by a machine to poke it. She peeled the rest of her clothes off and stepped into the warm spray. The mild buzz she'd been feeling from the beer and adrenalin was starting to wear off and Regina's tone was starting to loop around in her head. Had she just prodded the bear? What had she been thinking anyway? Hell the woman really was like her mortal enemy in this town and Emma had dropped a Molotov cocktail of emotions in her lap just because her own mad-keen-crush suppression skills were suddenly lacking.

Anyone that highly strung would react unpredictably, but the mayor was on a whole new level of control freakery. Emma gently thudded her head against the shower wall. Stupid. Stupid. Momentarily caught up in the woman's presence and sexual energy she had reacted on instinct. Maybe Regina was right. She was pathetic.

Emma sighed. Too much to think about. She needed sleep. She stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. In the distance she heard the phone ring and the answering machine pick up again. 'Three guesses who,' she mused. She opened the door so she could listen as she dried off.

More borderline drunken Regina. Hurling even more creative insults and threats. Lovely. The mayor finished with: "And if I find you've been sleeping with Ruby or any other town WHORE, you can forget even thinking about seeing Henry again. Miss Swan." She added the last with the same formal courtesy of a business meeting.

Perfect. Emma ground her teeth and flung her towel on the rack wondering when her love life became the mayor's business anyway. "When you shoved your tongue down her throat, you dolt," her inner voice said giving her a raspberry. "You don't think she sounds a little jealous?"

Emma paused. Oh hell. Now she had a freaking-out, vitriolic, enraged mayor with jealousy issues on her hands? Could she have thrown more kerosene on the fire if she'd tried? She exhaled slowly. She was going to have to be very, very careful in the next few days until an enraged Regina, feeling humiliated and exposed, unclenched her white-knuckled grip from around Emma's throat.


	3. Chapter 3

PART THREE – DENIAL

Emma sat in Granny's diner nursing a thumping head. She knew it could not possibly be alcohol induced after a glass and a bit of wine and one beer, but it felt like a hangover. More likely a guiltover. What had she been thinking? She had woken up with a curse and a start this morning and the first thing that had hit her was her KISSING the MAYOR. What the freaking hell?

Honestly, Emma mused, shoving her dark glasses on more firmly, she could be a total screw-up at times. She felt a movement as someone sat in the seat opposite her in her booth.

She scowled in irritation as she made out the features of an exceedingly uptight-looking newspaperman.

"Sidney," she muttered through clenched teeth, her headache worsening, and wondering why he would sit down without asking first. It was out of character to say the least.

"Miss Swan," he began with forced amiability. He paused. "Are you OK? You look dreadful."

"Thanks Sidney. You look fairly peachy yourself."

He dipped his head. "Sorry. I um, look, apropos nothing at all, was um, thinking about our conversation last night."

"Mmm?" she ground out, wondering what on earth the man was talking about.

"Well I, er, remembered I was wrong and Mayor Mills had been involved in a, ahhm, ongoing and um intensely passionate, erm, relationship. With the um … Sheriff. The other sheriff, of course." He ground out the words with effort as though even the thought of it burned him raw.

"What the hell? Last night you were adamant she was as chaste as a nun and this morning you suddenly remember she's getting it on with someone?"

"Er, yes. Someone in a LONG TERM and GENUINE relationship," he punched out the words if trying to sell real estate at some cheesy successful habits forum.

"And male," Emma added helpfully. "Don't forget that."

"Oh yes, thank you, yes, very male." He looked relieved as if he had remembered something important.

"OK Sidney, thanks for that _most_ helpful and sudden memory flash. Have you got a piece of paper?"

Sidney fished about in his briefcase and passed over a notebook and pen.

Emma wrote swiftly and folded and refolded it. She handed the note, his book and pen back to him.

"OK now I want you to deliver this message back to the mayor, seeing you are so adept at playing messenger boy today."

"What? I-I don't know what…"

"Save it Sidney. Just do it. And no peeking. Trust me when I say Mayor Mills would have your guts for breakfast if she knew you'd read this note."

Sidney swallowed convulsively.

"I think we understand each other," Emma smiled, with no hint of warmth reaching her eyes.

"I believe we do," Sidney said, slumping.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"She did what?" Mayor Mills demanded as the nervous man in a tweed hat slid the note across her desk.

"She heard what I said and asked me to give you this note in return."

She snatched the paper from him. "I should have expected the journalist to fail at subtlety. Did you read this?"

"No Madame Mayor, of course not," Sidney frowned.

She looked up as she began to unfold it. "What are you still standing here for? You've delivered the message, now leave."

Sidney did not have to be asked twice.

With trembling fingers Mayor Mills unfolded the note. It read: "Your raging heterosexuality has been duly noted."

Sidney heard the furious growl before he'd even reached his car. As curious as he was, he was glad to not know the contents of his message. He liked his guts right where they were.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Emma got back to her office after her slow guiltover start to the day to discover her office greeting her – and passing her – at the door. As in - burly men in hazmat suits were hauling the furniture out and putting it in piles on the street.

Uh … OK.

"They found rats. And a chemical spill threat was called in," the sheriff's office secretary, a mousy lady called Nancy, supplied helpfully. Emma turned to look at the dark-skinned woman with her dignified streaks of grey in her hair, a pearl necklace and elegant twin-set tweed suit.

"Rats AND a chemical spill? At the same time?" Emma asked disbelievingly.

"That is what they're saying, ma'am," the woman repeated noncommittally.

"Nancy, I cannot imagine any office you oversee being riddled with rats."

"Well, no ma'am, me either," Nancy admitted quietly, her eyes darting significantly to her left. "But that's what they're looking for. City health inspector came by not 10 minutes ago and put an alert out." Her eyes darted left again.

Emma got the hint and slid her eyes over to where Nancy kept glancing and asked distractedly, as the mayor's black car came into her line of vision, "I see … and the chemical spill?"

"It really is the darnedest thing," Nancy said, her tone indicating it was anything but. "Someone claimed they saw a truck depositing a suspicious drum with chemicals in our impound yard. Fumes got in through the window. A real hazard potential. So they say."

"You don't say," Emma said, eyes narrowing as she watched the familiar car pause and then accelerate past. "Fancy that."

"Yes ma'am," Nancy agreed, stepping aside as men in white overalls bore office plants past them. "Fancy that."

Emma lowered her voice and looked at Nancy directly, hissing in frustration: "I don't suppose the mayor said how long she planned to inconvenience us for?"

"Now, Sheriff Swan, you know the mayor's office has no _direct_ involvement in health, sanitation or …" a man in breathing apparatus briefly bisected the pair as he strode inside … "the EPA."

The black car had now lapped the block and was paused again. Watching.

Emma gave its shadowy occupant a grim smile then turned and tapped one of the beefy haulers on the shoulder.

"I want that filing cabinet right there, yes there, beside the tree. Put that desk there over by the street corner, and the chair there. Oh and put Nancy's desk right over there. And bring in the outdoor umbrellas from that unclaimed lost property bin and set them up right here."

She turned back to the office manager. "Feel like working outside today? Lovely weather."

Nancy chuckled. "Why Sheriff, that is a fine idea."

It didn't take long before Emma had something resembling a functioning police office underway, and residents had even stopped ogling and started adding their own touches. Archie had dropped by with a vase of flowers and Granny left a tall pitcher of lemonade.

Before long, Emma, having loaned her cell phone to Nancy, and redirected all official calls through it, noted business efficiency was actually improved. Residents seemed to prefer not having to go into the stuffy building to make a report or speak to the sheriff.

Emma found she actually quite liked it. As long as the weather held.

Of course her mood was immensely improved by the sound of a certain black car speeding off with a squeal of tyres when it had become obvious the outdoor office was not just a novelty but a certifiable hit.

Sure enough, within the hour, the all-clear was given. An EPA official, sweating inside his hazmat suit, looked at her wearily and offered a brief scowl, as if she were somehow responsible for his waste of time. In a way she was. Emma felt half bad for the man.

"It was a false alarm," Nancy sidled up to explain as they watched the office equipment returned indoors.

"Imagine that," Emma deadpanned, wincing as her desk acquired a ding on the way through the door.

Nancy looked at her knowingly. "Perhaps I shouldn't ask … but I would really love to know. What did you do to her?" she finally ventured softly.

"Called her on her crap," Emma said quietly.

"Oh my. I don't think Mayor Mills would like that at all." Nancy looked seriously impressed.

"No, she did not." Emma agreed.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

It had been a long, long day and as Emma walked back home, dying for a hot shower and a strong coffee, she heard crunching footsteps behind her. It took only a few seconds but she recognised whose they were without turning.

'Really, Emma,' she asked herself. 'You know her footfalls now?' Emma sighed. She really was gone on the woman. A sad, bitter, lonely, sexy-as-all-get-out, power-tripping woman. Who was also an excellent kisser, her gleeful inner voice added helpfully.

There was that.

Emma kept walking, not turning, but subconsciously slowed to allow Regina to catch up.

"You know you really should be more careful," that faintly mocking voice announced in her ear when she was beside her. "I could have been an attacker. You just let me sneak up on you."

"I knew it was you, Madame Mayor."

"What? How?" Regina demanded, both fascinated and highly sceptical at the same time.

Emma still hadn't looked at her.

"You have a tell," the sheriff admitted, keeping her eyes forward. "You pivot your left ankle 20 degrees just before you lift it, like a long jumper setting himself up for his run. It's very fight or flight."

Emma knew Regina was processing that little revelation from every angle, to see what she could extract from it. Finally the mayor made a disbelieving sound.

"I was a bail bondsperson," Emma added, a little defensively. "Observation is my thing."

Silence fell.

"I suppose you're probably pretty proud of yourself over that al fresco law enforcement you did today."

Emma trudged on. Where was the mayor going with this?

"What choice did I have? What choice did you leave me? And don't insult my intelligence by denying you played any part in that circus today."

She could see Mary Margaret's apartment up ahead. It was late. At some point the mayor would peel off and go back to her empty black and white mansion, and leave Emma to her coffee and regrets. Or were they regrets? She no longer remembered how she felt about that impulsive kiss last night. It had thrilled her and overpowered her. It had turned their complicated relationship from cold but functioning to volatile and erratic. They were barely speaking. Regina had been threatening her and pulling nasty stunts. And yet her nemesis couldn't seem to stay away, either.

She could hear the ground crunching rhythmically beside her. Every now and then the sheriff also heard the gravelly "scritch" of Regina's left foot pivot movement. She hadn't been making that up.

So far the mayor hadn't denied her involvement, but Emma had also heard the angry intake of her breath. Regina clearly wanted to say something. But she was holding her tongue.

Mary Margaret's stairs were in front of them. The stairwell, unlit thanks to a broken bulb, was pitch black. And that was when the mayor finally made her move. The blonde dimly wondered in the split second before contact whether this has been the mayor's intention all along.

Emma felt her back pressed under the dark stairwell against the brick wall of the building and Regina's ragged breath upon her cheek. Finally she looked up to be greeted with cold, dark eyes.

"Well dear, you certainly are smug aren't you," the brunette hissed. "But I have worked you out."

Emma felt the warm breath flow across her cheek, brown eyes raking her features.

Fingers, cold and hard splayed out across Emma's thighs, clawing up and down. Regina pressed her coated chest against Emma's, crushing her breasts into her.

"You're exactly like him – you just want to be my scratching post. Isn't that it? You want to scratch my itch? Hmmm?" She ground her groin against Emma's.

"Admit you want me," she demanded, biting her way up the blonde's neck, sliding her tongue just under her ear. "_You_ want _me_," she repeated, grinding harder and the blonde could not hold back her half groan. The worst part is she did want her. The sheriff turned her head away to hide her embarrassment but not before her arousal had been noted by the brunette.

"I thought so," Regina scorned, her voice low and dangerous. "A lusty little thing. No different than your predecessor. Different package, delightfully so, but same response to stimuli." With that the mayor crushed her lips hungrily to Emma's and moved herself against the sheriff.

A hand rose up to Emma's chest, finding and brutally squeezing a nipple. Her other hand yanked Emma's backside closer to the mayor and held it commandingly tight against her. As far as displays of ownership went, Mayor Mills was hardly subtle.

The mayor tore her lips away and smiled. It was cruel and thin. Still smirking she captured the blonde's lips again, and brought a hand up to rake across Emma's scalp, bending it closer. Crushing their mouths together. It was giddying and it took a few moments for Emma's fuzzy, spinning brain to respond and break free of the kiss.

"Stop it," Emma scowled, blushing hotly at her body's reaction. "For god's sake, just stop."

Regina pulled back and stared. A look of such empty darkness was in her eyes, Emma shivered again, and it was not from her jangled hormones.

"This is not what I want," she whispered. "I am not some blow-up doll you get to toss around and get your sexual power kicks out on. I am NOT Graham," she ground out.

Regina recoiled as if she'd been slapped. Rejection washed across her features. Emma wished she could better explain what she really wanted. But she doubted the woman would even understand the concept.

She gentled her voice, and lifted a hand to the mayor's face. She trailed her fingertips down one side, pausing to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Regina snapped her head away, her ego rent and bruised.

"If you're really honest – this is not what you want either," Emma whispered.

"But you kissed me," the mayor declared incredulously. "I KNOW you wanted it. Wanted me. Your body's dying for me to take you to my bed. Even now, you still want my hands on you," she said with a faint sneer, running a finger pointedly across Emma's erect nipple and gleefully observing the hissed intake of breath.

Emma looked at her pointedly. "Yes. I feel attraction for you. That is what you wanted to hear isn't it? Me admitting my frail human weakness to you? That was the point of this encounter?"

Regina's face lit up and her eyes flashed in triumph, a twisted smirk revealing a flash of white teeth.

Emma regarded her coolly for a second then pushed the clawing hand on her chest away and lowered her voice. "But Regina that's just base hormones. And _I_ do not want you. Not like _this_. Never, ever like this."

Regina's expression faltered.

Emma leaned forward and whispered in her ear: "You are worth so much more than these shallow, hollow, primal flings. And I deserve more than to be treated like Mayor Mills' tawdry fuck buddy when you feel horny. Hard as it may be for you to grasp this, especially in this town Regina, but I am your equal. And I deserve to be romanced properly not slapped against a wall and violently humped should the mood strike _you_. Now, I get that you may not see me as worthy of respect, but at least do _yourself_ that favour."

Regina's face turned white and then red. She recoiled in a fury, shook her head and stepped nose to nose to the blonde. "Don't you dare patronise me," she spat vehemently. "What would YOU even know about relationships? Has your longest one ever gone more than a day? How long did you even know Henry's father? Hours? _Minutes_?" Her lip curled.

Emma flinched and shut her eyes in reflex. Regina had scored a direct hit and triumph filled her face. The brunette laughed. It was cruel and ugly. Before she could gloat further Emma snapped her head back, eyes flashing. "If you really want to know, I knew him for exactly 23 minutes. 23 painful, vicious, degrading, shocking," she paused as an anguished cry burbled out, "_hellish_ minutes. Congratulations, you win. Are you happy now?"

Regina's eyes widened in shock and her mouth went slack. Emma felt the instant shift in the body holding her and pushed her away and bounded up the stairs, leaving the stunned mayor behind her. She fumbled for the keys, tears filling her eyes as the revolting memory of her encounter with a huge, violent man near her local jogger's path flooded her synapses. She choked back another sob now. It had taken years of boozing and pushing away all friends to get to a point where it didn't hurt so much anymore. And in one wicked swipe, Regina had knocked past all her mental barriers. Finally the key slid in, her door opened and just as she went to shut it she heard a quiet voice from the darkness below. Low and strained. Ashamed.

"I am sorry, Miss Swan."


	4. Chapter 4

PART FOUR - BARGAINING

Emma had stayed out of the mayor's way for a full day and the mayor had reciprocated in kind. Without her butting into her shift or life every five minutes, Emma discovered she could get a lot done. She had sorted and filed and refiled (including the mayor's precious Property Damage reports) and for the first time in a long time, she was bored.

She had stopped by Ruby's for lunch the next day and it hadn't taken long before the waitress had begun telling an engrossing, hilarious and completely inappropriate story about Dr Whale and an unfortunate incident involving him losing his pants that had her leaning over the bar to hear more. They both heard the door slam together and turned to see Mayor Mills exiting from the diner at a rapid rate. She got into her car and roared off.

"What's eating her?" Ruby sniffed.

"Probably just missing Henry," Emma lied, watching the cloud of smoke where the Mayor's car had been. "Don't take it personally."

"It's a bit hard not to. Gran said she was in here the other day demanding to know where I'd been and who I was with the other night. Can she do that? Anyway Gran told her I was working. And I was – you know, you were there. What is this – am I under investigation now?"

"No," Emma sighed. "The mayor just has the wrong end of the stick, I think."

"Well could you set her straight? Last thing I need is her gunning for me too. She has Gran in such a state already. She thinks I must be getting up to all sorts of things!"

"And are you?" Emma teased.

"Well yes. But nothing illegal," Ruby laughed. "And with no one the mayor would be interested in. Oh hey that reminds me – such a weird coincidence after our talk the other night. Turns out the mayor's secret lover has been unmasked."

"You don't say," Emma drawled.

"The sheriff!"

"Really," Emma offered. "What a coincidence."

"You knew," Ruby accused. "But I know you didn't spread it around. So who did? The mayor will kill them when she finds out."

"Oh I don't think so, somehow," Emma offered. "Anyway, I should get back to work."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

The mayor was waiting when Emma returned from lunch and they eyed each other cautiously. Regina looked pale, and exceedingly uncomfortable. They both began to speak at once and stopped.

"Let me," Regina said, and added with a twist of her mouth, "Please?"

"It is not my business who you sleep with," she began.

"But I…" Emma interrupted, realising the mayor was making assumptions again. Regina held up her hand.

"It isn't. If you and Ruby are all _cosy_ now, that is your…" she swallowed as if something large was stuck in her throat… "choice, Miss Swan. And what I said the other night about … well… it was uncalled for and hurtful. I did not know, believe me, I didn't. But I now understand why Gold told me I should never ask about Henry's father."

Emma rubbed her temples. "I believe you. Just never raise that again. Ever."

Regina looked deep into Emma's eyes and said unwaveringly: "All right."

"OK then," Emma said shakily. She cleared her voice. "For the record, even though we agree this is none of your business, I am not sleeping with Ruby."

The mayor's head snapped up, eyes alight. "Well that's good to know."

Emma tilted her head and looked at her. In spite of herself and in spite of the woman's nasty temper and mean, vicious tongue, she also had more charm and charisma than anyone she had ever met. She was intoxicating and Emma simply could not stop the smile that began to creep around the edges of her mouth as she realised the mayor had just accidentally revealed her jealousy. Regina had clearly also realised what she had done a second later and scowled.

"Not that I am interested in you in that way. In ANY way," Regina crossed her arms, scrambling furiously to regain control of this conversation.

"Uh huh."

"Definitely NOT." Regina asserted more forcefully, attempting her usually powerful intimidation skills. Emma was unmoved.

"Mmm."

"Miss Swan, you really are the most aggravating creature I have ever had the misfortune of encountering."

"You're not the first person to tell me that. Although most of the others were convicted felons. And they didn't phrase it quite as nicely."

The mayor stared at Emma for two full beats and then allowed a small smile.

Emma found herself responding.

"Look, how about a truce," Emma declared, feeling brave. "Come over for dinner tonight."

"Now why would I want to do that?"

"For Henry's sake. We start over. Imagine his astonishment if we're actually on civil terms when he gets back."

"For Henry's sake. But I'll bring the wine this time."

"Probably wise, Madame Mayor." Emma grinned.

"Oh and Miss Swan, make sure you keep your hands to yourself."

Emma's inner voice snorted at the hypocrisy. She couldn't resist: "I will if you will."

Regina narrowed her eyes, biting back a response and then turned on her heel and left.

"7 o'clock," Emma called out after her.

"What is?" Nancy asked, entering the room clutching folders. "And was that the mayor?"

"Dinner. And yes. I am planning a détente tonight."

Nancy looked at her in astonishment. "Ah, I understand," she said after a pause. "I do believe you are certifiably insane, Sheriff Swan."

"Probably," Emma agreed amiably.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Mayor Mills had the ability, Emma decided, to make a doorknock sound grumpy. She glanced at the clock. 7 o'clock exactly. Menacing but prompt.

Emma swung open the door to be greeted by a woman laden down with packages. "Well don't just stand there, help me get this all into the kitchen."

"I was going to cook," Emma said staring at the piles of food being unloaded onto the counter and the clang of a bottle of wine. Another stunning vintage, the sheriff noted with a squint.

"Please, do you think I want to come down with food poisoning? Besides, at least I know we'll both survive the evening."

"Well I, uh, appreciate you caring about whether I live or die."

"It's for Henry's sake."

"Of course." Emma smirked.

Regina took her coat off and slung it over the couch and Emma couldn't resist admiring the woman's impeccable form. Long legs in a dark pair of slacks, and the silver blouse that looked so damned good on her. Emma admired everything for a little too long, as Regina suddenly turned and caught her.

"Well I guess that answers that question," Regina said half to herself.

"What?" Emma asked moving to the kitchen to find plates.

"It doesn't matter."

Emma changed tack. "Why did you let the cat out of the bag about you and Graham?"

"What makes you think I did?"

"Please. Sidney looked fit to be tied when he was telling me. The news clearly couldn't be any newer to him."

"I really do not know what you're talking about."

"For god's sake, Regina!"

"Yes, Miss Swan?"

"Are we really going to have a fight on our first date?"

"Is that what this is?"

"Food, wine, two people who seem to like kissing each other, alone…"

"Miss Swan…"

"Emma… just call me Emma."

"Miss Swan I did not come here to seduce or be seduced. I came here because we need to find a way to work together for Henry's sake." Regina scowled. It was her sexy scowl. Emma approved.

"Actually come to think of it," the blonde interrupted as if Regina hadn't spoken, "this is technically our second date."

"You're not really going to call that other travesty of an evening a date are you?" Regina sputtered. "Did you know that when I poured your wine on the lawn, it ignited?"

"It what?" Emma asked. "Um ... sorry?"

"On the contrary," Regina said playfully, "I intend to keep it as a reminder."

"Ah. I vandalised your perfect lawn in the same way I vandalised your perfect life?"

"Something like that."

"Except it isn't so perfect, is it?"

The mayor's playful smile fell from her lips, her eyes darkening.

"I think underneath it all, you need me in your life," Emma edged closer.

"Preposterous," Regina scorned. But she did not step back.

"I also think I know why you came here tonight, and why you are so afraid."

"Afraid!" Regina exclaimed. "I am not afraid of you."

"I never said you were." Emma inched closer.

"You said…"

"That I know what you are afraid of."

A shadow crossed the older woman's face. "What makes you think I fear anything," she replied.

"I know. Your secret is that you hate the way I make you feel," Emma whispered into the other woman's ear.

Regina pulled back. "I feel nothing for you but pity," she retorted, eyes challenging. "You might dance a pretty dance about emotions and romance but it is all an absurd theatre that the weak perpetrate to justify enslaving themselves with each other for a lifetime. So no, my dear, I feel _nothing_ for you."

"I didn't say you did," Emma replied patiently. "You hate that I make you feel, period. Your famous control evaporates. You do insane things like smash 60-year-old bottles of wine, and push someone you hate against a wall and kiss her senseless like a cat in heat. And all the while you tell yourself it's nothing. You feel nothing.

"But the secret is that you DO feel. You feel plenty of things." Emma's hand slipped down onto Regina's chest, over her silk shirt, directly over her heart.

"Regina Mills, you actually feel deeply and desperately. You just wish you didn't. You really don't like the consequences of being human like the rest of us."

"I am nothing like the rest of you," she snapped. "Pathetic people, with whiny problems, all looking to me like I should care and that they matter. They don't."

"And there's you taking those hateful looks and pathetic pleas on board every day and having to act like it means nothing."

"It does mean nothing," Regina said determinedly.

"Just keep telling yourself that, one day you might believe it." Emma smiled. She gently circled her arms around the mayor's waist. "It's time you just accepted you are one of us after all. You might be a lot happier for it."

"Miss Swan…"

"Yes?"

Regina leaned forward. "As charming as all THIS is - just so you know - I can never be what you want. I do not romance. I do not have relationships. Do not get your hopes up."

"You seem so certain of that. Have you ever tried for more?"

"Once … many years ago. It ended in loss and betrayal." Her eyes flashed darkly.

The pain was so deep Emma could almost taste it. Every warning klaxon in her body went off. Emma carefully, softly, asked her next question as if laying a live explosive.

"Your lover betrayed you?"

"NO!" Regina snapped angrily. "Her interfering daughter did. And so my lover chose to … chose … she _died_." Regina shut her eyes to some long-suppressed horror. When they opened again there was a cold fury.

Emma swallowed. "And you're never going to let your heart go through anything like that again?"

"I have no heart left." Regina stated flatly, her voice dropping a few degrees.

She flinched as Emma stroked the skin above that very muscle. She felt its rhythm increase. "Again, I beg to differ."

"I already told you. I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

Emma nuzzled the mayor's neck. "You smell like apples." She smiled into the soft skin, enjoying the comforting feeling of the pulse below Regina's ear. "I can't offer promises either. Hell my own dating life has been so crap that the highlight thus far has been that self-igniting bottle of wine."

She felt Regina's facial muscles twitch in a hint of amusement. That was one thing she was starting to notice – how mercurial the mayor's moods were and just how quickly Emma could bring her out of them. She continued.

"But I know when someone wants me, and I know when it's for more than just for a quickie. And I think that despite your protests, you want me to be with you."

"Your arrogance knows no bounds." Regina uttered darkly. Neither chose to comment on the fact she had not once moved away from Emma's soft touches and stroking hands.

"Perhaps. But I am being honest. If you just wanted sex, you could have that anywhere."

"Hardly, my dear."

"Come on, Regina. You're not exactly _plain_," Emma grinned.

"I don't do complications. And then there's Henry…"

"Henry is just an excuse."

Regina exhaled in frustration. "You really are like a dog with a bone."

Emma smiled. "How else do you think I caught all those bad guys."

She left the comfort of Regina's intoxicating body and walked over to the CD player. "Any requests?"

"Nothing sentimental," Regina pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

"Heaven forbid," Emma deadpanned and found some French torch singer Mary Margaret favoured. It was lyrical, darkly romantic but not cloyingly so.

"Dance with me, Regina, and we can discuss the terms of your surrender," Emma laughed holding out her arms.

The mayor paused and finally stepped into the embrace, "You mean the terms of _your_ surrender, my dear."

" Tomato, tomayto."

They held each other for three songs. They might fight like cats and dogs, Emma mused, but they danced like they were born to be together. Two shapes in perfect synchronicity. The feeling of holding the brunette in her arms, moving and flowing with her, was intoxicating.

And finally it happened. Regina leant down and kissed Emma, slowly, passionately and not like she was some cheap lay at a truck stop only there to do the mayor's bidding. It was the first time Regina had ever offered a romantic gesture. Emma's heart began to beat triple time.

She let out a shuddering sigh.

"God, woman," Emma muttered, "you really know how to kiss." She had barely finished speaking before a blast of sensations suddenly flooded her synapses. Then it was gone.

She frowned and glanced at the mayor.

Regina had a hand at her temple and looked as shocked as the first moment they'd met. Her skin paled and she shook her head and stared open mouthed at Emma. "It can't be _you_?" she whispered incredulously as though some awful truth had been revealed to her.

"You felt something, too!" Emma said.

"No," Regina said sharply.

Emma tilted her head. "You didn't even ask what I felt."

Caught, Regina simply stared at Emma.

"Didn't you feel something … like the earth just shifted on its axis? And everything you thought you knew was different? Just for a moment."

"Nothing has changed! Nothing," Regina said fiercely.

She grabbed at Emma roughly pulling her tighter in her arms. This time there was a growing ferocity that reminded Emma all too well of the other night. She realised the mayor was attempting to push her backwards to the couch. What the hell?

Emma stopped her and asked quizzically: "I thought you said you didn't do relationships."

"I don't. _Love_ is absurd. It is a _weakness_. Those who indulge are weak," she hissed, a hint of fear around her eyes.

Just who was she trying to convince, Emma wondered.

"Regina, we've been over this. If you can't give me more, I won't settle for less."

The mayor looked at her, emotions and fire swirling around her eyes. They were troubled. "You would only be disappointed," she said flatly.

They locked eyes. The sheriff could see the fierce battle going on.

"I am prepared to try if you are," Emma offered.

Regina stared at her for two long beats. "This is ridiculous," Regina finally snapped. "Why can't you be more like him? Why complicate everything with this _nonsense_?"

"Respect isn't nonsense, Regina. "Unless you plan on doing this right, and those are my terms, then we have nothing more to talk about."

Regina's eyes flashed challengingly. "Is that so?"

Emma looked at her and sighed. "Why don't you just stop fighting it. What you feel…"

"You have _no_ idea what I feel. And just so you know," she added challengingly, "Everyone and everything can be overcome."

"Regina - I won't change my mind."

The mayor's eyes blazed. "Your body certainly had other ideas tonight."

"I have already told you – I am more than my body." Emma replied, shaking her head as though at a stubborn and not particularly bright child. "It seems we really do have nothing more to talk about," she added sadly. "Nothing at all."

Regina looked at her, an unreadable expression on her face, then picked up her keys and simply turned and disappeared into the night.

Emma looked over at the piles of produce Regina had left behind in shopping bags. It would be enough to feed her and Mary Margaret for a month. Possibly two. Second-strangest date ever.


	5. Chapter 5

PART FIVE – RESPECT

Emma and the mayor had reached an understanding. That is to say - Emma understood the mayor was trying to sneakily circumvent her rules. For the most part they had been keeping their distance. But that did not stop the messages on the answering machine piling up. They were increasingly flirty.

Clearly, in the mayor's mind, while a romantic relationship of equals might be stoutly off the table, that didn't mean a seduction direct to sexy, satin sheets couldn't remain on it. Regina had obviously never heard of the word "no" in her life.

Emma's response was to not engage the woman at all. Her silent treatment had extended to having Nancy say she was out whenever she called.

The sheriff suspected her tactics were secretly driving crazy a mayor long accustomed to her every whim being fulfilled. But she could not help that. This was a matter of principle.

Emma went home wearily, but not before deleting five missed calls and four text messages from her cell phone. Part of her had to secretly admire the mayor's persistence. But while she had expected nothing less, overall it was just further proof the mayor really only ever did what _she_ wanted. If she actually understood Emma's position, she saw it as little more than another obstacle to overcome.

And that was just not acceptable.

It was almost 10 o'clock. Emma was curled up on the couch catching up on a pot boiler detective novel she had bought at the airport a few years back and had never found the time to get through. It was just getting good – although Emma had figured out the killer three chapters ago – when her phone rang.

"Sorry to call so late, sheriff," Nancy's anxious voice began, "but the mayor says she has an urgent situation at home, and asked if you could go over at once."

"What? What kind of situation," Emma asked, worried. Images of Regina hurt flashed unbidden through her mind.

She was quickly reaching for her boots and coat before Nancy replied: "A prowler."

"Well why didn't she call me direct?"

There was a pause. Then Nancy's gently chiding tones: "Sheriff … we both know that you weren't taking her calls today. And so does Mayor Mills."

"Ah." Emma pursed her lips, feeling faintly embarrassed. "Yes. Thank you Nancy," she said, and rung off.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Emma rushed around to the Mayor's mansion as fast as her VW could go, which admittedly wasn't that speedy, but it was the closest vehicle she had to hand. She mounted the curb outside the austere mansion and raced to the door.

She bounded up the steps two at a time and banged on the door like the bailiff. It opened so swiftly her arm was still raised.

Regina leaned against the frame - the very picture of composure, wearing a sexy suit and a predatory smile.

"My dear," she intoned, "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

Emma looked past her swiftly then back to the mayor's face. "You have a prowler? Are you OK? Did you get a description?" She pulled out a notepad and pen.

"About my height, maybe a little taller, athletic build, fetching knee-high boots, overly tight jeans, white rakish tanktop, red leather jacket, bottle blonde hair – could use a little conditioner - dazzling blue eyes," the mayor paused, "Wearing a rather _endearing_ frown."

Emma slapped her notepad shut. "_Really_, mayor?"

"Well I needed to speak with you. It seemed the only way to get your attention."

Real anger flashed across the sheriff's face. "That is NOT an urgent issue."

"Well you weren't taking my calls, and I did leave several messages…"

"Madame Mayor," Emma ground out, hands on hips, "This is unacceptable…"

"Come inside…" Regina interrupted, as if the blonde hadn't spoken. "No need to carry out our _affairs_ on my doorstep." Her tone was fairly dripping with innuendo.

At Emma's appalled look she added, "If it makes you feel better, I do have some paperwork to look over with you."

Emma gritted her teeth and followed the woman into her study.

"Council business first," she announced, sliding into a chair behind an intimidating wooden desk. She gestured to the chair opposite. "We might even call it extraordinary business," she added with a purr…

"Can't this wait until tomorrow when we're both on the clock?" Emma growled, choosing to ignore the fact the mayor looked particularly fetching in her white blouse and tailored dark trousers and matching jacket.

"Oh I don't think so my dear," Regina smiled, leaning back on her "fuck-you-all" leather power chair, watching her through half-lidded brown eyes like a playful cat. It made it hard to concentrate.

Regina began: "Miss Swan, it has come to my attention you have been purchasing liquor from a mechanic's still. My garden still bears the evidence of your poor judgment. I think in recompense you should promptly attend to my _lawn_." She invested the word "lawn" with such a seductive drawl, it came out like a sexual obscenity.

Emma stared stupidly.

"Regina," she said, unsure where to begin. "_Madame Mayor_…" she corrected.

The mayor pursed her lips, then twitched them saucily. She leaned forward, sliding her finger down the next item on her list. God, the woman had actually made a list. Emma stared open-mouthed. Regina smiled evocatively and resumed.

"Item 2. You have also been seen _double_ parked outside Granny's. You are only ever to _single_ park when in my district."

Emma flushed, trying to imagine any time she would ever think of two-timing the mayor. She could barely handle ignoring her, let alone juggling her with anyone else. Her eyes slid to the mayor's outfit again. She really did look beautiful. The creamy expanse of her neck gave way to a most enticing vee in her shirt. Emma's mind drifted.

"Miss Swan," the mayor hissed softly, leaning forward. "If you keep looking at my breasts like that I will have to call security."

Emma sat up abruptly, a flush infusing her cheeks. But even as the mayor said it, Regina unconsciously licked her lips and slid her eyes over the sheriff's tight jeans.

The mayor blinked: "My god, do you paint those on every morning?"

Emma noted with an unbidden jolt that the mayor's nipples were now pertly erect against her shirt. The sheriff swallowed.

This was definitely a new form of torture, Emma decided. She just wasn't sure any more, who was torturing whom. It no longer mattered either way.

"I think we're done here Madame Mayor," she sighed, rising. Regina clearly had no intention of letting Emma get on with her life without the mayor in it, and no plans to let herself in her life on Emma's terms.

She headed to the door when Regina purred: "Oh Miss Swan…"

The sheriff glanced back.

The mayor had somehow swiftly undone two buttons on her blouse and had leaned slightly forward, giving Emma a glimpse of full pale swells encased in a white lacy bra, as she husked, "My dear, you forgot your folder."

The wide-eyed look of shock and yearning Emma knew had to be plastered across her face made Regina laugh. It was throaty and Emma thought she would promptly fall down if her wobbly legs didn't get out of there immediately. She grabbed the manila folder being slid over to her with shaking hands, only to flush again when she realised it was completely empty.

_That_ _woman_. She always did like to win. Emma wondered if anyone had ever challenged her and actually beat her.

She got as far as the front door, when she felt the Mayor's presence beside her.

"Not so fast, my dear," she whispered in the sheriff's ear, invading her personal space behind her. Spicy apple scent tickled her nose. Emma couldn't resist leaning back slightly into the source of seductive warmth. A look of jubilation spread across Regina's face.

The mayor leaned forward holding a jangling key from a long silver chain in front of them both. "It's to my back door, my dear. I just can't see you clamboring through the window like Graham. You are, after all, Jane not Tarzan." She offered her winning sexy smile.

It faded when Emma stared at the key in disappointment.

Emma sighed. "OK, no more, Regina."

"What do you mean? Do you think I make this offer to just anyone?"

"No, I know you don't. But as fun as all your flirting has been, it still leads to the same place where we began. You owning me. This is not two people sharing anything. It's just … _nothing_."

"I hardly think my providing you access to my home is nothing," Regina retorted, eyes flashing darkly. "I didn't even trust Graham with this."

"You might trust me with a bit of metal, and access to your bedroom, via the _back_ door no less, but you don't trust me with anything else. I don't know anything about you.

"When you're not the mayor, who are you? Where do you go to relax?

"Do you like to swim, fish, dance, joke, sing? What made you decide to become a mother? What's your favourite movie? The food you love most? The photo you can't live without? The dream you want to fulfill one day? Where you escape just to be _you_. I would love to know. Let me in and then we might talk about … _that_."

Emma gave the key dangling from Regina's finger a disdainful flick. They both watched it swaying from the end of its chain. The mayor's lips pressed into a thin, hard line and Emma sighed again.

"Until then, and I should have made it clear before, but God knows you are fun to duel with, that I am saying 'no'. And by no, I do actually mean no."

"But my dear, we…"

"There is no 'we' Regina," Emma said flatly turning to look directly into the other woman's eyes. They were so close. "There has always just been you and whatever your plans are for me. And that's the problem."

She leaned up and gently kissed her cheek in farewell. She really did smell good. "I am sorry if this is not in you. I really am. This is goodbye, Regina."

"GOODBYE?" the mayor looked at her, astonishment and rage erupting in equal measure. "How dare you! _You_ do not get to treat me like this. You, who are just a …" Regina's mercurial fury had actually rendered her mute.

Never good.

"Go on," Emma urged dangerously looking at those flashing brown eyes … "Just a ...?"

"You know _exactly_ what you are. You _abandoned_ your son. You walked out on his life. You have seedy one-night stands. You are … _pathetic_."

Emma gave her a hard look, squeezing back the feelings of rage and betrayal. "Are you _done_? Don't leave anything out," she said coldly.

Regina's eyes flashed. "You _repulse_ me."

"Well there's a coincidence, Madame Mayor," Emma said, "Because nothing right now repulses me more than the sight of you. Getting me here under false pretences to play your seductive little games so you can, what? Lure me to your bed and convince yourself you never felt a thing. I am not playing. I am LEAVING."

"Well don't let me stop you, my dear," Regina purred. "You have been promising to leave since the first day you got here and you never have yet."

Emma stared at her. "You really want me to leave Storybrooke?"

"Need a hand packing?" Regina enquired sweetly, her eyes stormy. "We both know this is an idle threat, my dear. You would never leave Henry.

"You are so sure of yourself. I could still keep an eye on Henry. You're not the only one with resources."

Regina looked at her, pressing her lips together. "Who are you kidding, Miss Swan?" She pushed her face right up into Emma's and hissed: "You're _bluffing_."

The blonde stared at her for a long, anguished beat and then shook her head. "That's it. I am done with you. Consider me gone."

She walked out and closed the door quietly. It was in complete contrast to their first evening together but the final condemning click of the door strangely almost seemed louder than had she slammed it. Her last sight as it shut was the mayor looking at her stonyfaced. Once again, her expression unreadable. Typical.

An eerie silence surrounded the mansion, then the yellow VW kicked into life and roared away.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Emma drove. She could not bring herself to go back to Mary Margaret's and she couldn't face Ruby or booze tonight. Knowing her past form she'd be just as likely to revert to some very bad, very old habits. Habits that had taken a decade to beat. So she drove.

She passed through town, seeing but not registering familiar faces. She drove onwards, taking the mountain road deep into Storybrooke's rugged breast, away from civilisation, and noises and chatter. Away. Even as she drove, she could still see those brown eyes looking at her, holding out her key so cockily, as if she were little more than the mayor's cheap harlot. Emma ground her teeth. The woman had no clue at all.

Her mind flashed back to the start. Meeting Henry. Liking Henry. Loving Henry. Meeting Regina. Hating Regina. Loving Regina. Hating Regina.

The maddening woman had only once, in all their sparring and love-hate relationship, ever kissed her like she meant it. And she had never once called her by her first name. Probably didn't want to make it too real, Emma snorted.

But for all that, underneath it all, Emma felt sure she had glimpsed her true heart. It had been there – she had seen it, felt it, when they danced and the mayor had moved her lips across Emma's in what had seemed a tender gesture, entirely absent of all games or crass intentions.

They had finally seemed to be making progress. And then in a flash it was gone. And the mayor had looked as if she had seen a ghost. And in the moment it took her to take her lips from Emma's she had reverted to a controlling, manipulative bitch, once again only interested in toying with her. Playing with her body perhaps, but not her. Absolutely not her. She had made _that_ abundantly clear.

Emma felt the loss keenly. She was baffled by the cause. She was sure she had felt the mayor responding. She knew the uptight woman's reserves were weakening. And then scheming Regina had reappeared. And it was all over.

What. The. Hell?

Emma felt the tears of loss well up and she tamped them down with determination. Damn if she was going to cry over some emotionally abusive relationship that had ended before it had begun.

She knew she had done the right thing. Regina was welcome to her hollow empty life. Clearly powerplays meant more to her than Emma did.

So why did it hurt so much?

She drove onward into the night, tall trees crowding around the wintry roads, her headlights punching out a weak, narrow beam into the cold, harsh terrain ahead.

After several hours her car suddenly began to sputter. She looked down and realised to her horror her fuel gauge was on empty. The car coughed a few more times then finally rolled to a stop. Emma used the last of its energy to get it off the road before it finally died. She pounded the wheel with her fist in frustration and looked around.

The feeble headlight beam showed forest on both sides, dark and foreboding. In the distance she heard a wolf howl. Only a lunatic would look for help at this time of night. She reached for her cell phone only to curse. In her rush to get to the mayor's mansion, she hadn't taken it with her.

Emma sighed. Ah, well. It wouldn't be the first time she'd slept in her bug. She grabbed her jacket, got as comfortable as she could and reclined the seat. She'd head back in the morning. Hopefully she could flag someone down, or it would be a very long walk.

. . . . . . .. . . . . . .

Office manager Nancy Everett picked up the phone anxiously. She put it down again.

No, she had to do this. She took it up once more and dialled the number quickly before she lost her nerve. It rang three times before a sharp voice answered.

"Yes?"

"Madame Mayor, it's Nancy at the sheriff's office. I was wondering if you know where Sheriff Swan is?"

There was a short pause.

"Now why on earth would you think I know that? Have you somehow carelessly misplaced her?"

"Madame Mayor, she's gone missing. No one has seen her since last night. The patrol car is still here. She didn't turn up for work today and no one knows what's happened."

"So why call me?" the mayor's voice demanded.

"I know she went over to your place last night. For your, er, emergency," Nancy faded out.

She heard the mayor's defensive hiss. "I hardly see what that has to do with anything."

"With Mary Margaret away, I have noticed you are the only person she socialises with," Nancy tried again. "Perhaps she mentioned some new plans?"

"I can assure you the sheriff and I do NOT socialise, Miss Everett," the Mayor said, her voice dropping a few degrees. She stopped. "Have you tried that bar? Perhaps she went home with the barkeep?" Derision dripped from her voice. The "because she's easy" was clearly implied.

Nancy frowned at her phone.

"Madame Mayor, I have already checked and Sheriff Swan has not been near Granny's," she paused and added pointedly "or Ruby."

Nancy heard another sharp intake of breath. "One of Sidney's staff thought he saw her leaving town last night," she persevered gamely.

"_Leaving town_?" There was a tectonic shift in the mayor's tone, and if Nancy didn't know any better she'd have sworn she heard a flash of fear.

"Where was she going?" the mayor demanded. "Tell me!"

"No one knows, but she was last seen heading towards the Old Mill Road."

A long silence this time. Nancy swallowed. Everyone knew the Old Mill Road led out of town … eventually. But first one had to negotiate the ever-present wildlife.

"I do not know where the sheriff has gone, nor can I fathom why you would think I would, Miss Everett, but seeing you have decided to involve the mayor's office in your department's incompetence, I suppose I will have to find her myself."

"Madame Mayor, that is _not_ why I called and it is certainly not necessary for you to…"

"I doubt your department could find its way out of a paper bag," the mayor snapped. "Leave it to me."

The phone went dead and Nancy stared at it.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Emma had been walking solidly for three hours. It was a creepy road, lined with tall timber and she had yet to see a car. Her night's sleep had been horrible, interrupted by woodland noises, scuttling sounds, the biting angry wind and occasional howls of wolves in the distance.

At first light she had finally given up trying to nap, and had locked up and started walking. She didn't know what she had been thinking last night. It wasn't the first time she had gotten into a car and just driven to forget, or to take her mind off her desire for a drink, or to just not think at all. But always in the past she had done it in civilisation, where gas stations were never four hours away on foot.

She was sure her cushy life had not prepared her for the slog she was putting in – already her pace was slowing, her stamina ebbing. 'Stupid, stupid,' she berated herself. She wondered if anyone would even realise she was gone by now. Or if they would care? Regina would probably have the cork out of the champagne bottle before Nancy finished her report, Emma decided.

For some reason, despite all that had passed between them last night, that just deepened her funk.

A black shadow in the distance came into view and Emma squinted.

Her heart skipped a beat. A car! She raised her arm for a moment until she realised it wasn't just any black car.

It was THE black car.

She put her head down and trudged onwards, setting her jaw in annoyance.

The mayor's Mercedes roared up beside her, slowing only in the last few metres, and the window rolled down: "Need a ride?" she drawled, her eyes flicking over the bedraggled form.

She kept walking, her eyes turning back to the road in front of her. "No thank you, Madame Mayor."

"Just get in," Regina humphed, drumming fingers on her leather-covered steering wheel.

"I said no. What part of 'no' do you seem to have so much trouble with?" Emma ground out.

She shoved her fists deeper in her jacket pockets, annoyed her hands had begun trembling, as they often did whenever she had a confrontation with this woman. Perhaps it was just the cold.

The mayor accelerated past her and Emma could hear her doing a U-turn. The black shape filled her periphery moments later.

"Really Miss Swan, is it your intention to walk the entire distance back to the town?" the voice mocked from nearby.

"So what if I do? That is my choice. Unless you're saying you're _overruling_ that choice as well."

"Sheriff I won't have it on my conscience if you freeze to death out here," she snapped.

"I see. It'd make you LOOK bad if I died. It's not like you actually give a crap."

"What?" Regina exploded. "What _are_ you talking about? I came out here to rescue the _sheriff_. You are my _employee_. It is my _responsibility_. What is so hard for you to understand about this?"

"I see. The MAYOR drops everything and does search and rescues now. What an _interesting_ job description you have."

"I am trying to save your life here, you stubborn woman!"

"It doesn't need saving. And you are so full of crap." Emma put up her hand and calmed her voice. It was time to tell the mayor where her thoughts had led her when she was shivering at 3 o'clock, unable to sleep. "Look, Regina, I had the whole night to think about things. And I really do think it's time for me to move on. For Henry's sake. And mine."

Regina stared at her for a moment then turned off the ignition. She got out and walked over to her, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the cold.

She asked intently, eyes raking the blonde's face: "You would actually leave Henry?"

"It might be for the best," Emma sighed. "I would follow his life, of course, but I don't think this … whatever _this_ is … is really helping anyone do you?" She looked at Regina sadly.

"Are you toying with me, Miss Swan?" Regina shook her head disbelievingly.

"No." Emma looked directly at her and let the truth of her answer fill the stillness of the forest air.

A bleak expression crossed Regina's face. "You can't. Can't just leave."

"Why not?"

"Might I remind you you have a contract to fulfil Miss Swan. Didn't you read the fineprint?" Regina huffed.

"I am still on probation, remember? My contract can be terminated by either party at any time. I can easily be replaced. You wanted Sidney so badly for the job, so take him."

"Sidney is an idiot."

"Then what do you want?" Emma asked curiously.

Regina shook her head. "You would devastate Henry if you left now."

"I should stay for Henry now? I swear Regina, you give off so many mixed signals you should work for the CIA's cyphers and codes department."

"Miss Swan ... please ... just … stay?"

Emma eyed the mayor's disturbed expression. Had Regina just _begged_ her to stay?

"I can't."

Emma's sincerity was obvious. Regina's eyes absorbed the blonde's face, assessing, weighing. She finally looked away and asked softly this time: "You can't stay out here. At least let me drive you home. Please."

Regina's expression was resigned and her shoulders slumped as if the fight had gone out of her. Emma walked to the passenger door.

"OK. My feet were getting sore anyway."

Regina looked ashen as they slowly accelerated away.


	6. Chapter 6

PART SIX - ACCEPTANCE

The morning light was glinting across Regina Mills's dashboard onto the driver and her silent passenger. They had both been caught up in their own thoughts. Emma glanced at the woman behind the wheel. Regina somehow looked smaller, no longer exuding her usual confident charisma. She was pale.

The terrain had changed again and Emma finally came out of her fugue to realise the mayor had switched to the forest road. This was definitely not the way home.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked shifting in the plush leather seats.

"Home," The voice was quiet and low.

"Um, is this a shortcut?" Emma asked, puzzled.

Regina did not answer.

Emma swung her head to look out the window. Before long they passed a warning sign indicating they were entering private property. The mayor turned off onto an unsurfaced access road.

Further along came a "Trespassers will be prosecuted" sign.

The road wound around a bend, passing a billboard-sized sign explaining the penalties for continuing without written authorisation. Emma gasped. "Ten year's imprisonment?"

Regina shrugged.

The fourth sign was even more forbidding. "Live ammunition is used on this site. No entry without full armour, safety equipment, and an armed accredited escort. No responsibility will be taken for injury, permanent incapacitation or death." The accompanying graphic of a skull and cross bones was positively medieval.

"Regina," Emma asked with growing alarm, sliding a glance to the other woman.

"Patience."

Three bends later revealed a 12-foot high wall with razor sharp coils of barbed wire across the top. But that was nothing compared to what was attached to it.

"Turrets?" Emma swung and looked at her driver. "Regina, the wall has TURRETS! Who puts turrets on walls these days?"

Regina's smile unnerved the sheriff.

Emma eyed the forbidding, empty black structures with heavy weaponry attached. She'd seen army bases with less security.

"Look, maybe we should turn back. We are lacking safety armour, an armed escort and accreditation," Emma ticked off the earlier sign's warning list, as the woman's car roared up towards the fortress-style wall.

"Regina?"

Just when they were getting ridiculously close and Emma had started wrapping herself into the brace position, wondering if the mayor planned to kill them both in some bizarre love-hate murder-suicide, the mayor calmly reached for a small device near her dashboard and pressed it.

Gates Emma could not even see a moment ago suddenly activated and swung smoothly open.

They drove through and Emma saw in her side window they automatically shut after them.

"Whose land are we on?" she asked as she self-consciously unwrapped herself from the foetal position.

"Mine," Regina said.

Emma looked about. The trees were old and reached for the heavens. Apart from the road it looked like no one had been in this place for generations.

After another 20 minutes they came around a bend to a clearing and Regina parked the car, climbed out and pointed.

Emma followed the elegant finger with her eyes and stopped cold. There, partially obscured by foliage, was a little cottage, with flowering vines covering it and birds dipping into a birdbath beside it. Beyond it lay a grove of apple trees.

"This is my home," the mayor said quietly as though mentioning the sky was blue.

The blonde reeled at the weight of meaning behind that simple sentence. She looked at this home – for that's what it was: inviting and warm, filled with light, colour and softness. Nature and texture. All the things the mayor's mansion was not. This was _Regina's_ residence.

"Thank you," Emma whispered.

Regina looked at her questioningly.

"For showing me this," Emma clarified.

The mayor smiled and held out her hand, taking the blonde's in hers. "I think you'll like _this_ even more."

A rumble in the distance was growing louder and Emma followed the mossy winding trail, pulled along by Regina's hand gently tugging her.

The mayor pushed aside a large fern frond and pointed ahead. "This is my sanctuary. And this is where I come to be me."

Emma gasped. There were simply no words to describe the setting – a small but powerful waterfall emptying into a green lake, surrounded by a thatch of weeping trees and a lush patch of grass. Waterfowl stalked the water's edge, scooping up low-flying insects. In the distance she could see an old wooden watermill over a stream, its ancient wheel gently creaking.

Regina strolled to the edge and dropped down to sit on a rock. Her face was still as she gazed at the scene. "I find this place gives me … comfort."

Emma swallowed her surprise and sat down next to her.

There was a hint of apology and questioning hanging in the air. As if Regina was asking whether her gift made up for all that had happened. There was no fight in her, no challenge. Emma gazed softly back at her. Regina's lips twitched, pleased.

A fine mist blew up where the water impacted the lake.

Emma leaned against the brunette's warmth. Her skin tingled at the contact. She couldn't think of any way to express what she felt for what Regina had shared with her.

So she took her hand in her own as they watched together darting dragonflies dipping in for a drink.

"I think Henry would love it here."

Regina started in surprise, the thought obviously never having occurred to her.

"Yes," she agreed after a moment. "I believe he would."

They sat in silence for a while. Emma finally whispered: "You could have finally been rid of me and instead you bring me here? Why?"

Regina exhaled. "You never do ask me the easy things, do you?"

Emma laughed. "OK, how about why don't you live here? It's just so beautiful."

"Too many memories," Regina turned away.

They were silent for a few moments.

Emma looked at Regina closely, taking in her pale beautiful features, high cheekbones. The dark brown hair was tucked behind a delicate ear. She realised for the first time how casually the other woman was dressed. Chinos and a white linen shirt. The barest hint of make-up. Gone was that usual rakish smear of Capricious red lipstick.

Underneath her layers, Emma could finally see the woman. A hint of vulnerability in her eyes, her features relaxed and open.

If she lived a lifetime Emma doubted she would ever see such exquisite, compelling features bundled up in such a complex, damaged person. She wondered if she would ever experience again Regina Mills letting her in like this or if this would be their single real moment together.

"Do you like what you see, Miss Swan?"

Emma's eyes flew to Regina's. But this time the brown eyes were sedate; the tone held no edge. She did recognise her line though.

"Very much Regina," Emma smiled softly. "You knew, didn't you?" she asked conversationally.

"Knew what?"

"That first night, at your manor, that I was, um, checking you out when you were finding your corkscrew. Hell I was so nervous."

"Of course I knew," Regina laughed. "You are not nearly so discreet as you think. And for one so nervous, you certainly proved to be surprisingly bold. And trust me," she paused for effect, glancing at her with bemused respect, "I am not often surprised."

"No," Emma mused. "I bet you're not. I didn't plan to kiss you, you know. Or poison you with wine from the back of Mary Margaret's cupboard."

Regina laughed aloud at that, the rich sound echoing around them. She looked at Emma and the smile still danced around her eyes. Emma was transfixed. Having the mayor fixate on you is one thing. Having her bore her warm brown eyes into you as though you are something she is particularly fond of is quite something else. It was a new and welcome sensation. Her body responded as though mercury had shot through her veins.

She looked at Regina's lips. So close. She closed the space.

When they kissed this time, there was no duelling or power plays, it was … Emma tried to think of the word and was startled to come back to one she would never ascribe to Regina… It was intense, sure, but also … loving.

Regina was eyeing her again, that same strange look on her face as the last time they had kissed, but now instead of shock, it contained a sense of wonder. "I could get used to that," she whispered looking at Emma.

The blonde regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. "You know, I really like _this_ Regina."

"Because I am not thinking up nasty new witticisms to skewer you with?" Regina asked with a gleam in her eye. "Which I will admit is fairly entertaining. I warn you that part of me will likely never change."

The brunette looked over to the waterfall again. "But you did make a good argument the other night. I can't deny it would be nice to be with someone who respects themselves enough to demand my respect. That just doesn't happen to me. People are usually so… _pathetic_." She ground out the last word with a derisive lip curl.

Emma laughed.

"Well you have certainly held up your end of the bargain," the blonde said appreciatively. She looked at the woman beside her. "I asked for more, and here we are."

"Yes." Regina murmured. "Here we are. What now?" She locked her brown eyes with blue.

Emma gave a reassuring smile. "You make love to me right now. And I do mean 'make love'. I am starting to think your idea of foreplay is straight out of a battlefield manoeuvres handbook."

Regina rolled her eyes. "I can assure you your concept is not _entirely_ foreign to me," she said pursing her lips together, suppressing a smile. "When suitably motivated."

"Oh I am certain it isn't foreign at all," Emma replied sliding an arm seductively around the mayor. "I am looking forward to assisting in your motivation."

Regina gave her a searing look and for a moment Emma felt her heart was in her mouth again, as the sheer sensuality of the other woman's scorching gaze offered promises of unmatched pleasures.

Emma whispered, "Woman, you had better get me to your cottage fast before my knees give out if you're going to keep looking at me like _that_."

Regina's throaty chuckle filled the forest and she wrapped an arm around the blonde's waist and walked with her from the lake. "Would you rather I just carried you to my bed? Hmm?" came that rich seductive voice teasing beside her ear.

Emma swallowed. She finally understood the true meaning of the word "swoon".

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Regina led Emma to her bedroom. It was large, airy and had a view of gardens and flowers that was at odds with the mayor's renowned prickliness. A faint hint of vulnerability crept into the brunette's face and Emma wondered again at how hard this was for the mayor. To be so exposed.

Emma leaned over and placed a lingering kiss on Regina's cheek, inhaling her heady scent and then dropped to sit on the bed.

The mayor hesitated.

"I think you should undress for me, Regina," Emma said seductively and let her hands drop back behind her on the bed.

The mayor regarded her and then smiled teasingly. "You only ever needed to ask," she said her voice dropping an octave to dangerously sexy.

The mayor fixed her eyes on the sheriff as she began to slowly unbutton her blouse. And that's when the blonde noticed. At the fourth button, as a delicious white lace bra began to come into view, Emma realised the formidable mayor's hands were shaking slightly.

Emma swiftly rose and covered the hands with her own, taking over the job. "Allow me," she whispered, realising she was not the only one to whom this actually meant something. The thought both amazed and humbled her.

Her fingers slid inside the open shirt, and slid it off well-toned shoulders, leaving Regina only in her bra. Emma admired the taut abs and ran her fingers over the flat stomach then up to cup her breast.

"So beautiful," she whispered. She reached behind the mayor, undoing her bra, and watched as Regina's breasts came into view for the first time. Deep red nipples appeared in front of her and Emma rolled them under her thumbs. She leaned forward, taking a soft white breast into her mouth, sliding her tongue over it, nipping and teasing. She heard a hissed breath above her and Regina's whole body suddenly lurched forward.

Releasing the nipple Emma turned her attention to the cotton pants just below her eyes, her hand cupping her centre and rubbing the warmth she found there. It was a furnace.

Regina moaned. These were not the primal hungry roars she had experienced before with the mayor. These were desperate and wanting. Asking.

The blonde eased her pants and underwear down and then drew her onto the bed with her. She slid her fingers around Regina's smooth thighs and gently pushed them apart. She moved herself between them and glanced up, seeking permission and saw brown eyes, pleading, looking down at her.

She lowered her mouth to her softness and began to lap the sweetness she found there. Gently she added two fingers and moved them strongly, intoxicated by the sensations and tastes beneath her. She stroked and teased, enjoying hearing Regina's breathing become increasingly ragged, the brunette's body arching and twitching. It did not take long.

Hearing a gasp and a tight cry, Emma felt the passage tighten around her fingers, watched the alluring breasts sway as Mayor Regina Mills threw back her head and moaned in pure wanton ecstasy.

Emma watched Regina's eyes. They were tightly shut and then fluttered open to look directly at her with such intensity she felt as if she had been seared.

She removed her fingers and pulled Regina into her arms.

"I've got you," she whispered. She felt the mayor's body trembling with after shudders.

Then she heard a voice, so soft, unlike any tone the mayor had ever used before. "I had forgotten," she whispered. "What it felt like to be touched like that."

Emma smiled.

"The things you do to me," Regina said haltingly. "The way you make me _feel_."

"No more than what you do to me," she whispered into the woman's hair.

Regina nuzzled her. "I am not accustomed to losing, you know," she muttered into Emma's neck with a sigh. "Or to being quite so… open."

"I know. You keep seeing relationships as battles - with victors and losers."

"That is life," Regina supplied matter-of-factly, extricating herself from the blonde's arms and sliding backwards on to the bed. Her legs fell apart, giving Emma an excellent view which sent a shiver through her.

The blonde stood and began to remove her clothing swiftly, as Regina watched her through appreciative, hooded eyes. Emma slid her jeans down her long legs.

She removed her bra and stood hands on hips, her small, white breasts moving slightly. "So – do you like what you see?"

Regina smirked. "Really my dear, I always have. It's just you've been far too aggravating for me to do anything about it before now."

Emma chuckled at the obvious truth bending.

Regina sat up and had a good, long, almost predatory, look at her body. "Very nice indeed. But I know a way to make you much feel nicer." She reached out her hand towards Emma's who promptly grasped it and slid alongside her on the bed.

Regina rolled on top of her before Emma had even registered she was moving and pinned her down, rubbing her naked body deliciously over her.

"That's more like it," she purred, rubbing her breasts against the blonde's and leaning forward to capture her lips. They both groaned at the contact and Emma felt like her body was on fire.

"Regina," she whispered when they finally pulled apart. "Make love to me."

"As I said before, you only ever needed to ask," Regina whispered, sharp arousal flickering across her face. She placed powerful kisses down the blonde's torso.

She ended up crouched between Emma's legs and the blonde could not help but feel she was about to be pounced on by a large cat. The thought made her nipples harden and she watched Storybrooke's prickliest, fiercest woman, ever so gently lower her head …

"Oh my god Regina!" she cried out as the woman's lips made contact and moments later a finger began to dance inside her, teasing, splaying, playing. There was absolutely no doubt at all that Regina was a most exquisite lover when she set her mind to it. So much for being rusty. 'My god,' Emma thought as the other woman's tongue was now creating magic ripples from her centre up her body.

Her orgasm not so much overtook her as grabbed her body by the shoulders and shook it like a rag doll. In the midst of it, she vaguely remembered opening her eyes and staring at Regina with wonder, awe, and … love.

Then shutting her eyes tightly as the aftershocks rattled her.

She immediately crawled into Regina's arms and clung to her, feeling foolish but safe at the same time. She felt the brunette stroking her back.

Then Regina was kissing the top of her head and whispering into her hair. "It is so rare to have someone looking at me like_ that_," she said.

Emma opened her eyes. Regina had been hated for so long she'd forgotten how to love and be loved. She felt her heart go out to her and reclaimed the brunette, letting her hands lightly trace her body, pausing to explore soft dips and valleys. Her fingers eventually found their way back to her most secret place and began to stroke and tease more sighs out of the mayor.

And then she heard it. So soft that she thought at first she'd imagined it, but it was repeated over and over again.

"_Emma_. Yes, _Emma_."

And the blonde knew in that moment that she was loved, too.


	7. Chapter 7

PART SEVEN – AFTERGLOW

The mayor's car paused outside Mary Margaret's house and Emma leaned over to give her lover a passionate farewell kiss.

"I'd ask you to come in but I think it'd be awkward."

"I know – I can see her car's back. I had better get home and see how Henry enjoyed his camp. Davis was supposed to be picking him up for me."

"We'll get some time together soon."

Regina reached over and took the sheriff's hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Count on it, Miss Swan. _Emma_." Regina corrected. She lifted the hand and kissed it.

She pulled away from the curb and left the sheriff standing feeling strangely bereft without her lover but also tingly from head to toe.

Emma climbed up the stairs slowly and let herself in.

Mary Margaret was sitting in the chair with a most peculiar look on her face.

"Hey," the sheriff said casually.

"Hey."

"How was camp?"

"Very good," Mary Margaret said woodenly, her eyes watching Emma's face closely.

"And Henry?"

"Also good."

"What – have I got spinach between my teeth or something?"

"Anything you want to tell me about while I was gone?"

"Um … no?"

"Nothing at all?"

"Nooo …"

"Make any new friends?"

"Hardly… you were only gone five days."

"Oh Emma…" Mary Margaret jumped from her chair and walked to the phone. She stood beside it and glanced pointedly at her house mate, hands on hips.

"You really have to tell me what I'm missing here, because I can't make heads or tails of it." Mary Margaret stabbed 'Play' on the answering machine.

"Message received Monday, 9.45pm…"

Emma's cheeks flushed hotly, as she instantly knew who and what was coming up next. She thought she'd deleted them all. Obviously not. Mary Margaret looked at her with an expression of wonder mingled with dawning understanding as the mayor's familiar acerbic tone rang out.

"_Damn you, Miss Swan..."_

THE END


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